


The silver spoils of dawn

by merryfortune



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Breast Worship, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Loss of Virginity, Mentioned Lactation Kink, Mommy Kink, Nipple Play, Out of Character, Porn with Feelings, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:33:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24301396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryfortune/pseuds/merryfortune
Summary: Slowly opening his eyes and drawing away from her delicate hand, a sorcerer’s hand, Sothe spoke: “Thank you for this wonderful morning.”
Relationships: Micaiah/Sothe (Fire Emblem)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	The silver spoils of dawn

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this to offer up as tribute to the gatcha gods
> 
> also I haven't played the Tellius games, but from what I've read, this ship should be like catnip to me so I hope my characterisation suffices

They danced with the wind until the dawn which followed in the morning. They couldn’t help themselves, but to be swept up in this whimsical elation which had them floating on air - literally, metaphorically. It was wonderful to have their bond commemorated and officiated as it were.

The night ended only when they were exhausted, collapsed onto a heap in bed together, in a wedding gown and in a wedding suit, ribbons and trills and all. They slept, nestled into one another, hands entwined, and just so, so happy. After all the hardship they had experienced, the separation and the pain, it was good to know closeness and joy once more.

Micaiah woke first. To the Askr birdsong. Those birds, small and fluffy, had such wonderful voices. Micaiah smiled. The mid-morning sunlight was lukewarm and soft, it felt good on her skin. She laid on her side and simply stared at her beloved. He looked so calm. His green hair turned pale in the reflection of the sunlight as he slept on his own side, curled in against her. His face was at ease and Micaiah had a marvellous time, attempting to count every lash on his eyelid.

It was good, she thought, that Sothe could relax once in a while. He was so vigilant and hard-working. She wanted nothing more than for him to know the balmy feeling of a lazy morning. But, alas, it was difficult to learn new habits. He must’ve known that she was staring because that easygoing expression, uncharacteristic, twitched and became a half-annoyed scowl.

“Good morning.” he grunted at her.

“Good morning, my love.” Micaiah replied.

His lips twitched again. Became a smile rather than a grimace. He sighed contentedly. Micaiah giggled. She had a sneaking suspicion that Sothe was rather pleased to be called that.

“It’s a… it’s a good morning today.” Sothe stiltedly told her.

Micaiah giggled again. “Yes, it is.” she murmured and she reached out to touch his face. To caress him. His cheekbones had grown so sharp in her absence; his eyes even sharper. But he was still her small and dear and precious Sothe despite all the angles of his ageing. “Perhaps…” Her voice wandered, trailed off, became lewd. “Perhaps it's a good morning to consummate our marriage.”

Sothe’s eyes widened and Micaiah found it endearing. Especially since those lovely and pointy cheekbones of him, the skin of which was now flushed pink with a touch of embarrassment. It was nice to know that the more things changed, the more some things stayed the same such as that earnestness of Sothe’s.

His stomach growled. “I think we should have breakfast first. Maybe even brush our teeth. I’m sure I have morning breath…”

“Good idea, I’m a bit peckish myself.” Micaiah said as she propped herself up. “Oh, I know, let’s indulge. We still have leftover cake from last night. Let’s eat that.”

“That cake was far too sweet for my palette. Solid like a brick too.” Sothe complained.

“Alright, I’ll have cake and you can fix yourself up something then.” Micaiah replied.

“Sounds good, sweetums.” Sothe replied, his pet name sounding so acidic but Micaiah found it more amusing than anything else.

Sighing, Micaiah got off the bed. It was round and rumpled with how they had slept on the doona last night. It had pearlescent trims and the softest, whitest sheets. She couldn’t wait to return to it with carnal intent but for now, she felt her own stomach rumble, so he was happy to drift over to the larder, with Sothe in tow for them to raid what was available.

They perched themselves on the little chair and table set by the larder of their honeymoon suite in the Castle. 

“Pardon, Sothe,” Micaiah murmured, “would you be a dear and feed me?”

“You are a very airy girl…” Sothe chastised her but he set down his own cutlery to pick up Micaiah’s fork. He stabbed at the cake - still just as solid as he remembered it - and separated a bite sized piece from the slab she had cut from the leftovers. He forked it and then lifted it to Micaiah’s mouth. 

“Thank you, Sothe.” Micaiah replied and she very happily bit onto the fork.

Sothe smiled, just a little bit as he had his own, scrappy meal of fruits. They alternated between taking turns and yes, it did become Sothe’s turn to be fed. His heart pounded as Micaiah picked a piece of the mandarin that he had been eating it and threaded it through his stoic lips. The wedge tasted more satisfying to him, filling and juicy, having been touched by Micaiah’s fingertips, he thought as he found himself longing to suckle the juices it secreted over her.

“You never let me do this for you when you were small…” Micaiah murmured.

“I was old enough to eat unassisted.” Sothe told her. “I look forward to the day you start treating me like an adult. I fear it will be no time soon.”

“I look forward to the day when you just let me spoil you unabashedly.” Micaiah told him in turn.

He sighed. He supposed that didn’t sound horrendous. To live in the lap of luxury of his beloved’s. 

“Would you like to take this to the bed?” Sothe asked. “Perhaps today is the day I allow you to pamper me.”

“There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there, my love?” Micaiah propositioned him in turn.

Sothe got to his feet first, as he thought it was the right and gentlemanly thing to do. Micaiah awaited him as she believed it the maidenly thing to do. Their hands clasped and she felt the flow of magic. A gentle warmth bloomed when their hands slotted against one another. When their fingers interconnected and with a careful tug, he pulled Micaiah to her feet and she pulled him into another zephyr dance. Twirling and with loose footsteps, they made it to the bed in a farce of a waltz. 

They returned to the bed and it was so plush underneath their weight. It was heavenly, as though they were lazing, erotic, upon cumulus clouds. They ended up lounging atop the doona spread. Micaiah had pillows propped up so she could rest against the bed’s headboard whilst Sothe chose his arm to lean on. He was, in essence, in her lap, haphazardly over her with one hand whilst the other caressed her face. She stroked his hands, soothing like a breeze, whilst they kissed.

Her breath was strangely fragrant with the sweet vanilla bean of the cake she had eaten. It’s more saccharine elements muted by yes, her morning breath but Sothe didn’t mind. He kissed her, chaste and longing, and both closed their eyes to it. Hearts steadily pounding as they felt themselves built up to something more over many, many kisses interwoven with so many years of feelings calcified into something that only they could understand and bequeath gently unto one another. They were easily the most important person they had in each other’s life, as messy as the connections were until they rolled up into a strong and unequivocal bond.

“M-May I touch your breast?” Sothe whispered to Micaiah after all those countless kisses like stars. His voice was so shaky with his self imposed chastity. 

“Of course, my love.” Micaiah replied.

She smiled a clement smile and with her free hand, she bowed her head slightly. Their foreheads connected and she felt the life pulse of his body. He was so warm, it was splendid and so she sighed, mulling it over whilst she deftly removed the clasp at the back of her neck. With the clasp unhitched, the fabric fell down around her neck in gold trimmed swaths. The jewellery embroidered into it clinked, innocuous, against her clavicles. 

“Could you…?” Micaiah’s voice trailed off as she became uncertain how to deliver her instruction she had of Sothe but he knew instantly. Instinctively. All because of their long-standing connection.

He pulled down the neckline so that her elegant neck was fully exposed. Unable to resist such milken skin, Sothe lowered his head and kissed her throat. He moved his mouth, ghosting over her skin, silk soft, kissing her, suckling at her pulse as he roved her exposed skin. For him, Micaiah moaned. A little soft, a little theatrical to get them both in the mood.

Sothe raised a hand and he groped Micaiah’s right breast. She giggled a little bit. His touch was gentle but explorative. It was firm, he discovered, through the shielding of both her bodice and her underclothes. But he liked it quite a bit. He grabbed at her a little bit more, extremely careful not to be rough with her as he knew that she was a romantic beneath it all and wanted to be treated as such. Sothe removed more of Micaiah’s bodice, revealing more of her gloriously unmarred skin. She was ethereal, he felt. 

Micaiah took a breath and Sothe glanced down at her bosom. Her regular wear minimised her bust, Sothe thought whereas what she wore presently, her nude coloured bra seemed to maximise. Its shape was slightly unusual as it was strapless and tubular, rather than the usual over the shoulder straps that she wore on the regular. Sothe found the change oddly titillating; more so than if Micaiah had clad herself in something more fanciful like proper lingerie.

“May I…?” Sothe asked, equally ambling in voice as his lover.

“Please.” Micaiah replied, her voice pleasantly assuring. 

Sothe swallowed and the more he stared at Micaiah’s breast, the more he felt the crotch of his trousers tighten. How lascivious. He took a breath through his nose as he reached around to remove her smallclothes. Pulling back the pins behind it, on her back, Sothe was able to unwrap her breast and he delicately cast aside her bra. He licked his lips as he caressed her breast. She shivered at his touch.

“You’re hands…” she murmured. “Are a little cold.” There was half a giggle in her voice as his thumb stroked over her dusky coloured nipple.

“My apologies, my love.” Sothe sounded a touch embarrassed.

“It’s kind of cute.” she offered him in genuine consolidation. 

Sothe half smiled. “May I lick your nipples?” he asked.

“Go ahead, it would please me immensely.” Micaiah replied.

In yet another half measure, Sothe half sighed as he leaned into Micaiah. She tried to exalt herself, lift herself up partially so as to help guide his mouth to her breast. He cupped both her breasts as he snuggled in, particularly to her right. He sighed and his breath felt strangely blessed on her skin. 

He tongued her gingerly as he held her. Micaiah came to pant as she was ravished so demurely with his tongue and his kisses. They were growing hungry though and Micaiah made herself wet on the thought. If only, she thought, if only she had milk to give; she wondered if Sothe would find that erotic but given how desperate he looked right now, she suspected that he may.

His mouth was so needy against her pert nipples. He sucked at them dutifully, latching his mouth around the whole of her areola and licking her over with worship imbued in each drop of saliva that he left in the wake of his stroking and suckling of her. 

Micaiah smiled onto him like sunshine through rainfall; she lifted a hand to him. She plopped it down on the crown of his head and patted his head. His hair was so silky soft and playing with its lovely, brilliant green of the strands reminded Micaiah of pine needle meadows. But it was the humble act of playing with his fine hair which brought back memories for Micaiah; both old and recent. He had hated it when he was a child, having her groom his hair but he had been less surly the night before last and allowed her to give him the works over as it was best for them to be presentable for the wedding, of course.

“This is nice.” Sothe whispered to her.

“It is.” Micaiah replied, equally soft of voice.

She shivered slightly. At the feel of his breath as he snuggled in once more against her bare breast. He touched her as though he were worshipping her and she grew aroused from such treatment.

“Micaiah…” Sothe murmured.

“Yes, my love?” Micaiah replied upon the prompt.

Sothe grimaced slightly and his touch stiffened. He swallowed. And it appeared whatever he had wanted to say, had slipped from his fingertips but there were still words in his throat, so he spoke them. Truly, honestly.

“I love you.” he said.

“I love you, too.” Micaiah replied and she sealed such a sentiment with a kiss upon Sothe’s brow. She sighed and she felt as though she could read his mind. “If you wish, love,” she began, murmuring, “you can call me by other pet names, other names than just Micaiah, if you wish. No matter how salacious, you feel them, so long as they are kind, I suppose.”

Sothe lifted his head curtly. There was an unusual shine in his eyes, gold like liquid sunshine. Micaiah was emboldened by such a soulful look coloured with romance.

“You could call me Big Sister,” she suggested softly, “or you could call me Mommy. Whatever you desire, my love.”

Sothe’s half embraced tightened on her but his nails did not leave so much as an etch on her silken skin. He flicked his tongue over her nipple and Micaiah moaned quietly to herself, half shifting as Sothe suckled from her. He kept latched onto her for as long as his lungs could permit, coming to ache and when he let go, to inhale, he looked up at her, waiting kindly.

“I would appreciate that a lot.” he replied - and perhaps more than she would ever know. 

Micaiah giggled evasively, impishly. “Please, my love,” she whispered, “make love to me?”

“With pleasure, honoured Mother.” Sothe replied.

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.” Micaiah swooned.

Sothe, with much reluctance, drew back slightly from Micaiah who fussed about with all the layers of the wedding dress she wore. Given the monumental occasion, of the morning after their wedding, it seemed unlikely that it was going to come off therefore, Sothe decided in suit, that his own celebratory clothes weren’t going to come off either. They would simply have to make do around so much fabric, all silken and luxurious. Micaiah shifted beneath him and soon, Sothe took his mount between her open legs, hidden somewhat beneath all those rollicking swathes of silk and other fabrics.

On his knees, hiked up onto the bed, Sothe caressed Micaiah’s ankles; her legs, all done up in white cotton leggings, were practically up and over his shoulders and he could think of nowhere worse to be. He wanted to be closer to her. Closer to her comforting face; closer to her comforting bosom. Still, his fingers trailed along the angle of her ankles, caressing the straps of her strappy pumps but not taking them off for her. He found them oddly alluring, in the matte leather of them.

Somewhere over all the hills of the fluffy tresses of her ballgown dress, Micaiah laughed. Sothe’s heart thudded in his chest, his ears reddened and he found some sudden haste inside of himself. He reached down for his sagging, green belt. It had been uncomfortable to wear last night to bed but in his, their shared, really, exhaustion, it had become irrelevant but it felt good to discard at long last as his hand then grabbed at the finery hidden beneath it. He pushed apart the coat and lifted up the dress shirt, all so he could get his fly down and free his half-hard cock from the confines of his regalia.

In such mangled actions, Sothe betrayed himself as a fumbling virgin but Micaiah didn’t mind the way. Soon enough, Sothe slotted in between her legs, as far as he could go against the push back of rippling fabric billowing off her waist, and put a hand either side of Micaiah’s body. His fingers grappling with the downy doona cover beneath them both.

Micaiah reached up, chastely, a hand either side of Sothe’s face, and she pecked his lips.

“Please, Sothe, I’ve waited so long for you.” Micaiah murmured to him.

“I’ve waited so long for you as well, Honoured Mother.” Sothe replied.

He kissed her back. Hard. Moaning into her mouth, against her lips which were smooth like the rind of a ripe nectarine. And just as sweet, too. She was splendid, like that. 

All but uselessly, whilst kissing her, Sothe gave a thrust. For him, Micaiah cooed. Even just the ghost or echo, the breeze really, of such a movement against the confines of her panties and other assorted hosiery she wore beneath her dress was enough to arouse her. She had to be closer to him. She embraced him around the middle with her long and beautiful legs. Within such elegant confines, criss-crossed and close, Sothe was emboldened. He humped Micaiah some more through the clothing that she was so orantely clad with like a royal doll.

As he did so, Sothe’s hand returned to what he considered to be their rightful place upon Micaiah’s wondrous body. He groped at her breasts some more. His mouth trailed down the side of her face. On the strip between her mouth and chin before going down her jowls with increasing ravenousness. Micaiah moaned beneath him.

“Please, Sothe, I want your dagger inside of me, please, take off my panties for me.” Micaiah politely begged of him.

Sothe swallowed. “That sounds good.”

He retracted a hand from Micaiah’s breast. Brought it dear and close to him and curiously, he drew his index finger along the seam of the tights that Micaiah wore over the top of her panties. She shivered at such a drawn out touch. Her leg twitched slightly and he felt it across his lower back from where she had hitched up her legs up and around him.

With his index finger, again, Sothe touched her some more. Drawing curious circles, even love-hearts, and other sigils on the tights’ surface. Micaiah sighed being drawn on like that but her contented noises changed sharply when Sothe, finally, pulled down her tights off her. Though, he only pushed them down somewhat, exposing her shapely thighs. She squealed, delighted, when she felt the blush of the honeymoon suite’s air upon her newly exposed skin.

Then, he started his process all over again. He traced the seams of her nude coloured underwear that she had been wearing and then followed through with nigh artistic as he swirled patterns over Micaiah’s thighs and underwear before, finally, coming to his arc. With the anticipating building in her body, Micaiah grew wet and her arousal did seep through and it was with a grand, bated breath, Sothe removed Micaiah’s panties. Pushing them down her legs, letting them entangle with her only partially removed tights.

Her exposed pussy, prim as it were, was beautiful, Sothe thought. He drew nearer to it, grinding his loins against her own and she sighed gorgeously. His length hardened upon hearing such musicality in her voice; the strains interwoven with her growing lust. It was wonderful. 

With ease, Sothe was able to glide inside of Micaiah and she moaned at the thrust. He cocked a smirk to himself. He kissed her mouth once more, as though for good luck, before he returned to suckling her breasts. Switching between them with even and calculating rhythm to how he alternated between them. Suckling them, as though he were to leach milk from them - all whilst giving her a good love between her legs. 

Making love to her was divine, he felt as he built up momentum between them. Sharing in the fruits of such effortless labour. She held onto him, hands laced around the back of his sturdy neck, playing with the stiffness of the high, white collar that he wore. 

She thrust back against Sothe’s grind. Feeling him as deep as he could go inside of her. He smoothly entered her, drew back, and then pushed on again. Over and over in a steady, romantic pace which quickened her heartbeat without causing her a nary fear. She sighed and moaned for him. Noisy enough for the both of them as Sothe was quiet in his crescendo but she could feel it. Sense it. He was near.

Such a premonition had omens in the way that his face was uncharacteristically sweet. In how his eyelashes fluttered with each breath that he took and how his back arched. Even through the cladding of his sturdy, white overcoat and the like, Micaiah could see how he pleasurably shuddered whenever she cooed or moaned. It was adorable. He was adorable, especially with that orange flower still pinned to his throat, even now in the throes of their passion.

Sothe, almost drowsily, opened his eyes for the first time in ages during their lovemaking session. The gold of his pupils shone. Glowed, even. There was a tender softness to them which stole Micaiah’s breath away when she had such pleasure and privilege to glance down at how Sothe’s body connected onto her own in their carnal embrace. She breathed steadily and felt his length, hard as a dagger’s edge, inside of her pulse. She licked her peach pale lips in delicious apprehension of what was about to come.

With a breathy voice, Sothe asked her: “Honoured Mother, Micaiah, may I come inside of you?”

“Please.” Micaiah replied to him. She smiled blissfully.

Sothe nodded. His thin face felt strange against Micaiah’s breast as he did so; she felt the edges of that darn colour as well but fortunately, she was mite ticklish so she laughed. Sothe smiled to himself, enjoying the silver bell-like sound of her laughter as he latched his mouth onto Micaiah’s breast once more. He exhaled through his nose and she felt somewhat warmed by his effete breath. 

His downward movements grew subtle but Micaiah appreciated it all nonetheless as he came to his humble climax. He wasn’t exactly handsome in his climax. It was as though he were embarrassed to have such vulnerable and sexual emotions; he stifled his moan, long and drawn out, against Micaiah’s breast. Sucking it through whilst he humped her. Though, fortunately, perhaps even cutely, he seemed quite lulled by how Micaiah pet his head, stroked his cheeks, coaxing him gently through his orgasm. She, herself, breathed harder beneath him as she was pumped with his semen throughout. 

Micaiah soon felt full. She, equally as quiet, and even suppressed, came as well upon being filled with his love in every possibility of lewdness. The feeling floated pleasantly in her chest as she panted. Such breaths, haphazard and even uneasy, coming to a calm, placid smile on her flushed face in due eventuality. She smiled to herself and Sothe looked up. His eyes were happily tired. A small and tender smile on his face.

“I love you…” he murmured. “I love you a lot, Micaiah, Honoured Mother.” Her name was getting lost on his tongue, drunk on the slurry of his love and lust.

“I love you too.” Micaiah returned his sentiments. 

She lifted a hand to caress his face. He swooned, melted into it. He was much more handsome when he was willing to show emotion. His expressions were made soft with his love and he pressed another kiss - needy, even possessive but possessive like only a young child could be - onto her mouth. She trilled, dulcet, for him. And that feeling of fullness did not wane, unthinkingly, she put her other hand atop her belly as they half got up from lying on the bed as they had been. 

Gingerly, Sothe clasped his own hand over Micaiah’s. Atop her stomach. They then both had the mutual and subtle realisation that Micaiah’s brand was on that hand. Feeling romantic, Sothe carefully pulled her glove off and revealed the mark on her hand. He held her hand and brought it to his face, wordlessly. He kissed the inner of her palm. He held such a kiss for quite a bit of time, the both of them basking in each other’s presences and in the sunlight filtering in through the window, bedecked with translucent curtains. 

Slowly opening his eyes and drawing away from her delicate hand, a sorcerer’s hand, Sothe spoke: “Thank you for this wonderful morning.”


End file.
